


try not to let the burn become a scar

by yookboy



Category: BTOB
Genre: Anxiety Attacks, Break Up, But they'll be fine, M/M, lapslock, minor changjae, platonic iljae
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-08
Updated: 2019-10-08
Packaged: 2020-11-27 22:47:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,795
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20956166
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yookboy/pseuds/yookboy
Summary: that’s what breakups do. the person you thought you couldn’t live without is now a cold stranger, a painful reminder of what used to be. sweet smiles and warm hugs replaced by harsh words and meaningless fights, and suddenly, it all disappears.





	try not to let the burn become a scar

**Author's Note:**

  * For [jijal](https://archiveofourown.org/users/jijal/gifts).

> this fic has been, quite literally, five years coming and i really wish i was exaggerating  
happy birthday to basically my other half [jijal](https://archiveofourown.org/users/jijal), i hope you like it :( <3
> 
> please ignore the fact that sungjae’s birthday is not in winter as well as any other inconsistencies thank you  
  
title from goodbye by echosmith  


ilhoon shivers as he steps out of the apartment building, scrunching the bottom of his hood to cover his neck. it’s been a relatively warm winter but it’s starting to get a bit crispy out, and there are wisps of snow floating around. ilhoon sighs. the swirl of his breath in the air disappears as quickly as it came, and he wishes he could do the same.

the sound of a loud honk snaps ilhoon out of his reverie and makes him jump. he hadn’t noticed that a car had pulled up to their—his—apartment. 

ilhoon scowls. _you don't own the fucking neighborhood, jackass._ he makes his way around the car and gets in as gracefully as he can muster, throwing his keys and wallet in first.

“you’re late” ilhoon remarks. he can’t even fathom how much time he’s wasted just waiting around, "as always."  


minhyuk purses his lips, hesitant. “you look nice.” 

ilhoon scoffs, “don’t give me that bullshit. let’s just get this over with.” 

the car ride is painfully silent and stuffy with tension in the air. ilhoon looks out the window and pretends like he’s not there. the sun is setting, and it fills the sky with brilliant shades of orange and pink. a few soft flakes of snow flutter down, landing lightly on the window. it reminds ilhoon of last winter when minhyuk would drag him up onto the roof to surprise him with a warm blanket, hot chocolate, and a half moon eye smile that would light up the world when the sun wouldn’t. it was chilly out but the air around them burns. ilhoon would get lost in the taste of minhyuk and accidentally miss the sunset, but it didn’t matter because he was wrapped up in his boyfriend who gently pushes him down onto the blanket, slowly placing light kisses up along his neck with hooded eyes and-

“ilhoon?” at the sound of his name, ilhoon whips his head around to look at minhyuk. “we’re here already?”

“yeah, you gonna get out? or did you want to stay in the car with me longer?” minhyuk smirks. 

his efforts to fight the burn flowing to his face fail and he quickly clambers out of the car, flustered. in the past, those words held a different meaning. minhyuk would have pulled him close before whispering that in his ear. ilhoon would have felt the ghosting of his breath hovering over his lips, warm and close, before surging forward to capture minhyuk’s lips in his own. ilhoon wants to rid the longing feeling of holding minhyuk in his arms...but maybe it’s not a longing feeling so much as an old habit.

that’s what breakups do. the person you thought you couldn’t live without is now a cold stranger, a painful reminder of what used to be. sweet smiles and warm hugs replaced by harsh words and meaningless fights, and suddenly, it all disappears.

one day, he just packs up his bags and leaves. 

gone.

“remember to act normal,” minhyuk says as he texts changsub to let them into his house. the loud pumping of music would be too loud for anyone to hear the doorbell. 

"you mean, like i don’t want to sock you in the face? yeah. got it." it comes out harsher than ilhoon intends, but it's not like minhyuk doesn’t deserve it.

"ilhoon. i'm serious. i don't want us to put any kind of damper on this party." he used to find minhyuk’s perfectionism endearing, but now it’s just annoying, and ilhoon has half a mind to turn around and walk home, despite the weather.

“i know what i'm doing. stop nagging me, i'm not a child."

"then stop acting like one." minhyuk's voice raises a little, "i know you’re doing this deliberately, but your attitude is really shitty, and no one in there is going to appreciate it. so get off your high horse and don’t fuck this up." 

that stings ilhoon more than he would like to admit. he’s trying to push minhyuk’s buttons on purpose, and he knows minhyuk is doing the same, so why is he letting minhyuk's words get under his skin? “you’re acting all cocky, but you better not fuck this up either,” ilhoon fights to blink back tears. he hates this. he hates that he feels like pubescent teen who can't control emotions. 

the door opens in front of them, revealing changsub with a stupid children’s birthday party hat worn crookedly on his head. 

“hey, there’s my favorite couple!” changsub squeezes them both in a tight hug. “what took you guys so long? did you lose track of time going at it in the car?” minhyuk elbows him in the stomach while ilhoon gives him a weak chuckle. 

changsub’s eyes widen almost comically, “no way, really? i must be psychic or something!”

_or something_, ilhoon mutters under his breath as he peels himself away to avoid any more of changsub's obscene jokes. he, again, seriously considers turning around to leave, but wanders into the kitchen instead. maybe the air in there is a little less suffocating. 

he breathes a sigh of relief when he sees that the only person in the kitchen is sungjae, who's rummaging through the fridge. 

sungjae looks up in surprise with wide eyes which soon turn into crescents upon the sight of his best friend. "ilhoon hyung!" the same time ilhoon says "happy birthday!" 

sungjae holds the sparkly tiara he has on his head with one hand so it doesn't fall off while he dashes over to ilhoon, a can of beer in the other hand. "what took you so long? we already played three rounds of beer pong without you," he pouts. 

"sorry," ilhoon apologizes, "hyung left his house late to pick me up. i waited for like an hour." 

ilhoon hasn’t called minhyuk ‘hyung’ to his face in a long time. to others it’s fine because 'hyung' is vague, but 'minhyuk hyung'? it reminds ilhoon of a time when he would giddily smile upon saying it. now it just makes him feel a little sick. 

sungjae tilts his head, “you didn't come with minhyuk hyung?" 

"i did." ilhoon lips are suddenly dry, "he was late to pick me up." 

sungjae is confused, "uh, don't you guys, like, live together? did something happen...?" sungjae trails off and squints. "something happened. something happened that you didn't tell me," he accuses. 

ilhoon sighs. sungjae is a lot more perceptive than he looks and ilhoon admires him for it. it's really not the time or place to have this conversation. 

but…it's sungjae. and ilhoon was a fool to think he could keep it from him for much longer. 

"a few weeks ago, he packed up all his stuff and left,” he looks down guiltily, "...or well...i kinda threw his stuff at him, " sungjae's eyebrow raises at that, "and told him to go." 

"then he packed everything and left. i m-mean,” he stutters, “we had been fighting for weeks beforehand, like we mostly just avoided each other but whenever we spoke it was just lots and lots of yelling and it was awful." ilhoon bites his lip. "it escalated pretty bad one night, we both said some things that were...kind of..." ilhoon swallows, unable to complete his sentence. sungjae's eyes knit with worry. 

"anyway, after he left, he texted me saying that we should wait until after the party to tell people about us." 

sungjae is silent only for a moment. "that...is so fucked up. that is so unfair to you what the fuck," he grips the beer in his hand tightly in anger, ready to take his friend's side. "and i can't believe you actually listened to him too you idiot, why didn't you at least confide in me? your closest compadre?" 

ilhoon shrugs, grateful that sungjae is taking his side without much context, "i'm sorry, i guess i just didn't really wanna talk about it? i haven't really wrapped my mind around it to be honest. neither of us explicitly said it was a break up... but he basically implied it so…" he trails off before adding, "plus, you can't keep a secret to save your life. you probably would've told the whole city." ilhoon cracks a smile. 

sungjae puffs up, "hey! who do you think i am? i am the most loyalest best friend anyone could ever have!" he takes a swig of his beer. "how was the ride here, then? civil at least?" 

"civil...maybe a little less..." ilhoon winces, "i was pretty awful, even i can admit that... but he just—he makes my blood boil, i don't know. i don't even know when it got this bad." 

sungjae nods in silence for a little bit, unsure of what to say back. he thrusts his can of beer into ilhoon's hand, "here. drink the rest of this. forget about min-what's-his-face-hyung. it's my birthday! please drink ‘til you're shitfaced and pretend everything is fine," he squeezes ilhoon in a tight hug, "i love you hyung!! you're my favorite person!" 

ilhoon smells the alcohol in his breath and pries him off, "jesus you weren't kidding about those three rounds of beer pong, " he shakes his head, "it's like you think you're still in college..."

"it's only been a year let me liiive, " sungjae whines. 

"yeah yeah whatever, tell that to your liver" ilhoon considers the can only for a moment before bringing it to his mouth and chugging the entire thing on the spot. "alright. i'm as ready as i'll ever be. let's do this."

sungjae hangs an arm around ilhoon's shoulder, "LET'S GOOOOOO" 

"oh god, i changed my mind, i can't do this, i think i'm gonna be sick..." ilhoon moans. 

sungjae continues shouting his battle cry as they march into the living room. 

ilhoon surveys the room, eyes instinctively landing on a particular brunette boy sat comfortably on the couch laughing at god knows what dumb joke eunkwang just told. ilhoon can't help but still feel this aching pull towards him even though his presence is like a buzzing bee that only he can hear. _stop looking_, he forces his head in a different direction. 

_he's not yours anymore. _

<<<

with one hand, ilhoon drums his fingertips on the surface of the smooth restaurant tablecloth. with the other, he grips the sides of his phone, trying not to press it too hard into his ear. 

he almost hangs up, but then the ringing stops. he hears cheering and glasses clinking through the phone and pretends that it doesn't alarm him. 

"hey, where are you?" he asks, only partly through his teeth. he runs his thumb slowly over a petal of the rose he bought before arriving. 

_"i’m at a company dinner tonight. oh, maybe i forgot to tell you...sorry. why, are you waiting for me?"_

he accidentally snaps the petal off. dismayed, he lets it flutter to the ground. "no, just wondering." 

_"okay, well. i’ll be back later"_

"okay," ilhoon echos. 

on his way out, he drops the rose into the trash. 

°°°

it doesn't take him long to get home since the restaurant is close by. it's one they used to frequent when they first moved to the area, before minhyuk got too busy at work trying to chase that next promotion. 

promotions are a good thing. having money is a good thing. especially when ilhoon's the one with a minimum wage job struggling to bring his half of rent to the table. it's good that minhyuk can provide. 

only, it feels like that's all their relationship is now. ilhoon never sees minhyuk that much anymore, and when he does, it's always right before bed when minhyuk stumbles in half drunk from work. ilhoon hates it, but if he brings it up, they just argue. and they always argue about the same things: not having enough money, not spending time together, not having time or money to spend together. 

it's frustrating. 

it's infuriating. 

it makes ilhoon wonder why they're even together...and that thought hurts. because underneath it all, underneath the petty fights, the passive aggression, the financial burden—ilhoon still loves him. 

but the crushing fear that all their struggles have pushed them to lose sight of that love is overwhelming and ilhoon is scared. scared that maybe, just maybe, minhyuk really doesn’t love him anymore. 

he wrote it off in the beginning—when minhyuk was late to eat ilhoon's homemade dinner because he had to get on his boss’s good side with a few rounds of drinks. yeah, of course he needs to be friendly with his boss. then minhyuk had to cancel a date because he had to work overtime. and okay, sure, he just needs to get some extra work done. then he wanted to sleep in on saturday morning because he was exhausted from that work week. that’s fine, sleep is important.

then it repeated the next week.

and then it became every week.

there came a point where he couldn't take it anymore but pretended he could. the scary part is that he doesn't know when that point was. what he _does_ know is that tonight is the last straw. he decides he's had enough. something needs to change. 

he whips open the door of their shared closet and starts shoving clothes that aren't his into the closest duffle bag in sight. and that's how minhyuk finds him when he trips into the bedroom, face rosy.

"hey, what are you doing? are those my clothes?" minhyuk asks, once he sees ilhoon rifling through the closet. 

he doesn’t respond, just keeps shoving articles of clothing into the bag. 

"ilhoon, hey, answer me" minhyuk demands. 

"i’m packing your clothes,” ilhoon says, stiffly.

"yeah i can see that. but why?" 

"you're leaving." 

"what?" 

ilhoon stands up and turns toward him, glaring, "do you even know what today _is_?" 

minhyuk barely opens his mouth before ilhoon continues. 

"our anniversary." minhyuk's eyes widen. “we made reservations weeks ago! you _promised_ you wouldn’t forget, hyung.”

"ilhoon i-" 

"save it. i’m tired of this. i don’t want to do this anymore." 

"what do you mean you 'don’t want to do this anymore'? what are you saying?" 

"i’m saying that i don’t know why we’re even dating! you're never here! we _never_ see each other, hyung. and when we do, we fight. i’m tired of it. i’m tired of all of it.” 

minhyuk pinches the bridge of his nose with his eyes closed, “ilhoon. you know i have work. why didn’t you say anything on the phone?”

ilhoon scoffs, “if i had said anything, would you have actually left?” he takes minhyuk’s silence as answer enough. “you're a fucking workaholic and it’s like i’m in a relationship with a brick wall." 

minhyuks eyebrows furrow. "are you kidding me? i’m working this hard for _you_,” he stresses the last word, “we need to pay rent, ilhoon. and you’re only worried about going on dates! you're being so ungrateful" 

"we're _fine_ on rent, hyung. but you keep working overtime like you think we're gonna go homeless. we don’t have to go on dates if you don’t want to, but stop making promises you can’t keep! i’m sick of waiting for you when half the time you cancel last minute and the other half you don’t even remember we made plans.”

"we're 'fine'" minhyuk air quotes, "_because_ of the money i make overtime, otherwise we _would_ be homeless! i’m trying to make a living for the both of us!"

"how can there be an 'us' when we don’t ever see each other?" 

minhyuk rolls his eyes, exasperated, "i just told you. i’m trying to support us! both of us! how many times do i have to repeat that?" 

"what’s the point when we don't even act like we're together anymore, hyung? we’re basically just roommates at this point. like, is it so hard to spend one day together? would it kill you to occasionally say i look nice? it’d be great to feel appreciated or _loved_ once in a while” ilhoon stresses. 

“well maybe if u weren't such a whiny brat, i _would_ love you” minhyuk spits out angrily. 

every single cell in ilhoon’s body burns—like minhyuk shot a bolt of lightning straight through his chest. he lets out a short exhale as his body slightly sags, defeated. he swallows thickly, hoping his ears had deceived him. hoping his fears were not being actualized this very moment.

minhyuk’s eyebrows immediately unfurl and the anger on his face morphs into something ilhoon might call akin to regret as he moves forward, reaching out, "ilhoon, i’m so sor-" 

"get out." ilhoon icily cuts him off. 

"i didn’t mean it, i’m—i’m drunk-"

"alcohol brings out the truth." ilhoon storms out of the bedroom over to the coat rack in the living room and grabs minhyuk’s jacket. minhyuk follows him out. he turns around and shoves the jacket into the owner’s chest, "get the fuck out now."

"ilhoon, stop. you know i love you, please-" minhyuk barely grazes his cheek before ilhoon shoves him off so roughly that he has to stagger back a few steps to keep his balance. 

"do i?" he breathes out shakily, almost laughing. the back of his eyes sting. he looks at minhyuk in anguish, "i don’t think this is love, hyung"

"no, ilhoon, i swear. i do love you, please. believe me," he begs. ilhoon can hear the panic in his voice.

he stares into minhyuk’s eyes. those brown eyes. they used to bear love so deeply into ilhoon's own. but right now, they’re just filled with—

pain? …fear? 

perhaps both.

the pain of hurting the one person you promised not to hurt. the fear of losing that person. 

or maybe it's the fear of inevitable change. the words he spoke cannot be taken back. they’ve been let out into the universe and now they both have to deal with the consequences. no matter what it is, it can’t possibly exceed the amount of pain _or_ fear coursing through ilhoon’s veins right now.

was there truly still love between them? not long ago, ilhoon would have been able to say with certainty. but things are different now. an unyielding promise they once made now splintering apart as fire threatens to consume it—to burn it. when had it become so fragile?

it feels like an eternity passes by, both just staring at the other.

"i hate you." _a lie_. it feels wrong once it's out. he doesn't mean it. deep down, he knows he doesn't mean it. he hates what they’ve become. he hates that they’ve both let it happen. but he can’t bring himself to explain any of that now. he just wants minhyuk to hurt. he wants him to hurt half as much as ilhoon hurts right now. if those words could bring any degree of torment to him, ilhoon is glad. 

he turns away before he can see minhyuk's expression.

"please just leave," ilhoon begs softly. 

he all but runs into the bathroom and locks the door, barricading himself in. he just—he needs space. 

he sits against the door and leans his head back, trying to even out his breathing. after an unidentifiable amount of time passes, he faintly hears the front door open and shut. then, nothing.

°°°

he comes home the next night after work to find a single red rose on the dining table, lying next to lonely silver ring.

>>>

sungjae brings out shot glasses and a huge bottle of grey goose, a step up from the cheap vodka they had in college now that changsub has the money to pay for it. ilhoon doesn’t see too much of a point in buying the expensive version since it gets them fucked all the same even if it doesn’t burn as much going down, but maybe it’s just because they can. 

ilhoon loses count after a while as sungjae pours him shot after shot, giving him beer as a chaser only. it’s disgusting, really, but he indulges in sungjae because—well, because why not? part of him knows he should tone it down (and keep an eye on his friend), but they're in a safe environment. he's sure one of the hyungs will take care of them.

it turned into a dance party shortly after sungjae and ilhoon entered from the kitchen. lights dim, strobe lights everywhere, people grinding—mimicking all the college parties sungjae dragged ilhoon to. he’d almost believe he was at one now, if only eunkwang’s dancing didn’t make him look like a dad trying to fit in with the youngins. the house is a lot more packed than ilhoon thought it was going to be. he had assumed it was going to be one of those awkward ‘i’m technically an adult now but not really’ house parties that would start off faux sophisticated and then end up a smidge wilder than anticipated. but this—this is bordering full on rager. a distant thought in ilhoon’s mind wonders why sungjae would ask changsub to throw him this kind of party. if it was ilhoon, he would have been too afraid people would call him immature for not growing out of his frat boy phase. 

but that's the thing, sungjae doesn't really stress about what people think of him. he’s unabashed about who he is, and it doesn’t matter if people think he’s stupid or naïve because he knows he’s not. his mentality rubbed off on ilhoon for a while, but after graduation, his anxiety and insecurities began to plague him stronger than ever. 

he wishes he could go back in time, when things were fun, and he didn't have to worry about the crushing responsibilities of life.  
maybe he could, for tonight at least.

sungjae twirls him around a few times and it elicits the most lighthearted giggle he has let out in a while. they separate and ilhoon finds himself dancing with a whole slew of people, most are friends he met in music club. some he has no clue who they are—even sungjae might not know who they are. but then again, he’s not really sure he can trust himself with facial recognition in his current state.

he doesn’t really know what his body is doing at all, just knows he hasn’t felt this uninhibited in ages. unsteady on his feet, he makes his way over to the punch table where there stands a cute boy ilhoon immediately recognizes. 

"hyuuung!" ilhoon's arms latch on to this boy’s neck from behind, "dance with me!" he blinks lazily down at minhyuk after he turns around, and smiles big. 

"ilhoon," minhyuk says, eyes wide. his hands wrap around both of ilhoon's forearms where they're around him.

"come on come on," ilhoon ushers him away from the perimeter of the room insistently, arms still around his neck. it’s not a very optimal position for either of them to move very far, but ilhoon doesn’t really notice. he sways as he shuffles minhyuk along, and it’s almost like they’re slow dancing.

then they’re actually dancing. jumping at the beat drops, hips bouncing, hands flailing. he almost slips while trying to shoot, but minhyuk catches him by the waist. the older lets out a breezy laugh that ilhoon preens at. he swings his arms around his neck again and looks him straight in the eye.

ilhoon moves one leg in between minhyuk’s and shifts his weight forward to brush his lips against the other's. he feels minhyuk's grip on his waist tighten, and their crotches lightly rub against each other’s thighs. "hyung," ilhoon whispers, “please kiss me.” 

after a moment of hesitation, minhyuk pushes ilhoon back gently by the waist. he looks a mix of apologetic and uncomfortable. ilhoon furrows his eyebrows, confused—before a wave of reality washes over him. 

"oh." ilhoon mumbles dumbly, "i’m supposed to be mad at you." 

he doesn't hear minhyuk calling his name because he's already inserted himself back into the crowd, searching for the only other person who can ground him.

"sungjae," he grabs his friend by the arm. he was in the middle of doing that stupid yanolja dance from the commercials. he looks at ilhoon, disoriented, “huh?” 

ilhoon lightly presses his palms against sungjae’s cheeks and leans up to kiss him. 

truth be told, this isn’t the first time they've kissed—it just happened sometimes, before ilhoon was in a relationship, and only when they were young, drunk, and foolish. 

_well, i guess i still am young, drunk, and foolish_, ilhoon thinks.

it doesn't mean anything. he thought that’s what he needed when he saw sungjae, but now he thinks maybe he was wrong. it’s nice because kissing is nice, and sungjae is good at kissing. but even so, it doesn't feel right.

not that it lasts very long since he's jerked sideways away from his friend. minhyuk is visibly angry as he holds ilhoon’s arm in an iron grip, glowering at him. he looks back at sungjae who is even more disoriented than when ilhoon found him. 

“what are you _doing_,” minhyuk hisses at him. 

“let go of me.” ilhoon pulls away. 

sungjae seems to have finally come to his senses. he moves closer to ilhoon protectively, his eyes trained on minhyuk. “back off, hyung.”

minhyuk narrows his eyes, “why don’t _you_ back off, sungjae. you have a boyfriend.”

“yeah, well ilhoon doesn’t. so he can kiss whoever he wants—and that includes the birthday boy!” he points at the tiara on his head. 

“it most certainly does _not_ include the birthday boy if he has a boyfriend.” changsub appears next to sungjae and gives him a pointed look, but it doesn’t look like he’s genuinely angry. sungjae gives him a wry smile. the older turns toward minhyuk and ilhoon, “maybe we should take this elsewhere.” his eyebrows raise slightly as he tilts his head towards the crowd around them who have stopped to stare.

ilhoon hadn’t noticed, and suddenly he’s very aware of the warmth climbing up his face. “no. i have nothing to say to him.” he tries to take a step back but wobbles, catching himself before he falls.

“please, ilhoon.” minhyuk holds out a hand, imploring him silently. with a roll of his eyes, ilhoon takes it, “fine.” 

as they walk away from the crowd, ilhoon runs his thumb over the back of minhyuk’s hand absentmindedly and can’t help but feel a twinge in his chest when he notices the bare finger where a ring should be. his mind takes him back to that summer day when he slipped the silver band around minhyuk’s finger for the first time. it was just a simple ring, but it marked minhyuk's ownership of ilhoon’s heart—it was a link between them. he loved holding hands just so he could feel the metal between their fingers, like a physical reminder that minhyuk was his only. maybe it was a bit possessive, but he didn’t care. he wanted the world to know that this man was his. 

their hands separate, and ilhoon chases to reconnect, but is stopped by a glass of water being shoved towards him. 

“drink.” minhyuk commands. ilhoon obeys without protest and realizes, once the cool liquid reaches his throat, that he is parched. 

“so, what exactly is going on?” changsub asks. he should be angrier about seeing his boyfriend kiss someone else, but ilhoon thinks that maybe he’s holding it in.

minhyuk rubs his eyes in frustration. “sungjae kissed ilhoon—”

“no, _i_ kissed sungjae,” ilhoon interjects to defend his friend, “he’s innocent”. 

“why do you even care?” sungjae points a finger at minhyuk, “_you_ broke up with ilhoon.” 

minhyuk scrunches his brows, “what are you talking about? he broke up with _me_.”

“you guys are broken up?” changsub repeats incredulously, out of the loop.

ilhoon looks at minhyuk like he has five heads, “what are _you_ talking about? you left your ring in the apartment. wasn’t that your way of breaking up?”

changsub whistles, “that’s a shitty way of breaking up, bro.” minhyuk sends him a death glare and tells them to leave, but sungjae stays firmly rooted in his place—which is quite a feat considering how intoxicated he is. 

minhyuk decides to ignore them and turns back to ilhoon with a pained expression. “that wasn’t my ring,” he pulls out a silver band from his pocket as proof. “that was the ring i got for _you_, ilhoon. there was a card with it, didn’t you read it?”

sungjae gasps dramatically, but ilhoon can’t pay him any attention while his mind is reeling from this new information. he doesn’t understand. he was so sure that ring was the same ring he gave minhyuk. but that’s impossible, if minhyuk is holding that ring right now.

“why?” he croaks out. 

“because,” minhyuk reaches out to hold ilhoon’s free hand, looking at him with a sadness in his eyes, “despite what i said or what you might think, i love you, ilhoon.”

ilhoon’s throat constricts. he trampled all over their relationship, chewed it up and spit it back out in his face. it hurts. he can’t expect ilhoon to take him back just like that. it’s not fair. 

everything is too loud. his head is pounding. his limbs are starting to feel tingly, and he can’t breathe. 

he vaguely registers the sound of glass shattering but doesn't see the broken remains on the ground because he's already turned around, pushing people out of the way to run out the front door. he doesn't need to see it—the fragmented pieces of his heart are enough to deal with. 

°°°

he squats on the sidewalk outside building, tears escaping despite his shut eyes. he’s trying to regulate his breathing, but it’s not really working because the untimely sobs and hiccups keep wracking his body and interrupt whatever flow he's made. 

a body approaches him, and he doesn’t need to open his eyes to know who it is.

“can i hug you?” minhyuk asks gently. ilhoon squeezes his eyes harder and nods stiffly. he breathes out shakily as minhyuk wraps his arms around him. he leans on his shoulder. it’s an awkward embrace because they’re both squatting, but ilhoon is grateful anyway and focuses on minhyuk counting quietly and evenly. 

eventually, he regains feeling in his body and can breathe more evenly. the tears have stopped, too. 

“thanks,” he says softly. minhyuk’s always been the best at helping him through his attacks. _it’s not fair_, he thinks. he’s never going to find anyone else who knows him the way minhyuk does. he’s never going to be able to offer his heart to anyone else the same way. _not fair_.

“do you want to go home?” ilhoon nods. they both rise, but ilhoon stumbles again as minhyuk catches his arms. he breathes out a laugh, “i guess i’m still drunk.”

"good thing i’m not. i’ll drive you." 

ilhoon looks at him quizzically, "you didn’t drink anything?" 

minhyuk clears his throat, "i quit drinking." 

"oh," ilhoon says, so quiet that minhyuk might not have heard him.

°°°

minhyuk follows ilhoon inside, but neither of them addresses it. ilhoon immediately sinks into the couch, leaning his head back. minhyuk joins him a few minutes later with two cups of hot tea. they sip tea silently for several minutes, unsure of where to start. 

“i wasn’t trying to break up with you,” ilhoon says finally, “although i know it probably seems that way.” minhyuk doesn’t say anything, so ilhoon continues, making eye contact with him. “you hurt me, hyung. not just with what you said when you were drunk, but with everything the past few months.”

“i know, ilhoon, and i’m so sorry. i thought about it a lot the past few weeks. i was really frustrated and stressed from work and i took it out on you, but that’s not an excuse. it wasn’t fair. i took your love for granted and you paid the price. i didn’t even realize i was being distant because of work, and i forgot to show you how much you mean to me, and you do—mean so much to me, i mean,” he shuffles closer so their thighs are touching and takes ilhoon’s hand, “i regret what i said to you that night.” 

“i regret what i said too. i don’t hate you. i was just trying to hurt you.”

minhyuk knocks his forehead against ilhoon’s lightly, “i know.”

a thought occurs to ilhoon. “but, the text—you said you wanted to wait to tell people we were broken up,” he accuses.

“that was because i thought you had read the card and still wanted to break up! i didn’t know you hadn’t even seen it.”

ilhoon groans, “we really need to work on communication.” he gets up and walks over to dining table. the untouched rose is wilted and gray, a few petals already fallen to the table. ilhoon winces, “okay, maybe i should’ve done something about this.” 

“you think?” minhyuk deadpans, but there’s no bite.

ilhoon finds the small card hidden in the plastic flower sleeve. “it’s so tiny! no wonder i didn’t see it.” he flips it over and reads the six short words written there.

_my heart, if you’ll keep it._

it’s the reciprocation of the words he said when he gave minhyuk his ring that makes the thin paper feel like a heavy weight in his hands. he knows exactly what minhyuk is trying to say and he can’t help but feel choked up despite of everything that’s happened. 

he doesn’t trust himself to say anything so instead, he takes the band that’s still on the table and places it into minhyuk’s palm, urging it to put it on ilhoon’s own finger.

minhyuk gives him a watery smile, also choked up, as he does so. ilhoon then reaches into minhyuk’s pocket for the ring he knows is there—the one he knows _for sure_ belongs to minhyuk—and slips it onto the older’s finger. he leans forward and kisses him sweetly, offering forgiveness. they press together for a while, reveling in the feeling of each other for the first time in a long time. 

ilhoon pulls back just a hair. “if we’re going to keep doing this, we need to change things. i’m still—i don’t know if i can trust you completely right now,” he admits in a whisper, “but i…i want to.”

“we'll start with that then,” minhyuk says simply.

the road to recovery might not be smooth sailing—there are a lot of wounds to heal—_but_, ilhoon thinks, _it’ll be worth it_. 

they’re worth it. 

and maybe, not all burns end in scars.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading! leave a kudos if you liked it :')


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